All That You Can't Leave Behind
by bleak reality
Summary: It was a fact. It was a fact like the fact that Hook was cruel, and Tinkerbelle was a terrible flirt, and it was a stupid thing to swim with mermaids and whenever Peter left Neverland the whole island fell into winter. (SlightlyPeter)


He'd never thought that Peter would stay behind. Peter was at the head of any mission, the first with word of a new adventure, the first with a plan. Well, Nibs did the actual detailed planning, but Peter always told him to do it. That was just how it worked. Peter was in charge, and the other boys looked to him to lead. It was a fact. It was a fact like the fact that Hook was cruel, and Tinkerbelle was a terrible flirt, and it was a stupid thing to swim with mermaids and whenever Peter left Neverland the whole island fell into winter.

Slightly wondered if London would be always winter if Peter wasn't there.

* * *

After packing his things into a largely unreliable bag, Slightly glanced about his corner of the home underground to see if he'd missed anything. But all his favourite scraps of wood were bundled up in his jacket, and his hat was crammed in beside them. Their money was to be carried separately, so he didn't need to worry about that. All the same, he chewed at his lip and scratched the back of his neck, fretting because he knew there was something he needed to take that wasn't obvious to see, and might not even fit in his bag.

Slightly became aware of a sad and uncomfortable quietness on the other side of the home. He looked over to Peter's corner and saw him leaning against the wall beside his bed, turning his pipes upsidedown and downsideup, considering them. Then with an annoyed breath, he threw them down on his bed and whisked himself away - up and out of home.

Slightly dropped his bag and followed.

* * *

Peter was hunched up small in the crook of a tree branch. Slightly, who'd begged a little extra fairy dust from Tink not too long ago, concentrated hard on his best happy thought and drifted up to join him. Carefully he folded himself to balance on the branch beside Peter, and was prepared to smile cheerfully as a hello - but Peter didn't look around. Peter didn't seem to see him.

Slightly was lost. This wasn't Peter. Peter was always happy and bright and cunning and quick and throwing himself into every tiny thing because everything was just that much fun. This boy was quiet, withdrawn, and sad. Looking at him, Slightly wondered what to say. He'd usually suggest an adventure, a game with the Indians, or even seeking out Tinkerbelle for an impossible game of tag. But they were leaving soon, and there wasn't time to play.

Wendy had told them all about what it was like living in London. They'd all loved the sound of a real mother and father, and having a dog for a nurse, and school and the city sounded like strange and bizarre kinds of adventures. Slightly remembered some things about London, but what he now wanted most was to rediscover it, and find out if there really was more to things than picking fights and playing games. Because Neverland was all kinds of wonderful, but Slightly had stayed long enough.

But he'd never thought to have to leave Peter behind. For Peter to shy away from the challenge of school and an _office_, Slightly almost wondered if Peter was scared.

Slightly didn't like not knowing things he was wondering about, so he asked.

"Are you scared Peter?"

"Me? Scared?" the indignation was automatic, and when Peter turned his head Slightly saw the usual spark was missing from his eyes. "I'm not scared of anything."

"Not even staying here alone when we're gone?"

Peter shoved him out of the tree.

Slightly shut his eyes tight ready to hit the ground - but he never did. He opened his eyes to see Peter gripping him around the waist, the nearest thing to a contrite look on his face Slightly had ever seen. Peter lowered them to the forest floor, then let go and turned away, arms folded.

"Um."

The quiet went on. Birds shrieked and dove through the canopy with rustles of leaves and boughs cracked against each other as animals swung from one to another. From over the hill came the sound of Indians yelling and shouting as one tribe gave chase to another through the undergrowth. The sun was bright, throwing colours into such sharp contrast that the differences hummed. Slightly's heart was thudding as it had only done once before when he'd been held hostage by the pirates. But Peter had saved him, and everything had been alright.

Silence still. Peter didn't move.

"You don't want to come with us?"

"If I do I'll grow up."

Slightly hadn't thought of that before, but it sounded obvious. "Of course."

"I _won't_ grow up!" Peter spun around, shoulders up and head forward like that stray wolf cub when it was hunting.

"It can't be that bad, Peter," Slightly protested. "Wendy doesn't - "

"I don't want to hear about her!"

Slightly hesitated. It didn't seem right that mothers and fathers should fight so much. "Why not?"

"She's being stupid about this. She keeps talking about _feelings_ and _pretending_ and then using _stupid_ big words like deficient." Peter waved his hands as he spoke, Slightly was alarmed to see he was holding his knife. "She's being a _girl_. I should never have brought her here."

"Then why did you?" Slightly immediately shut his mouth and wished to be somewhere else.

But Peter didn't throw the knife. Instead he went quiet.

"She . . . was going to give me something, but Tink stopped her."

"Give you what?"

Peter ducked his head, and somewhere under the dirt Slightly could see him blush.

"A thimble."

"What's that?"

"Um." The blush got darker. Peter glanced around nervously, then stepped closer and whispered in Slightly's ear.

"Oh." Slightly had never heard of that before. When Peter leant back away from his ear, Slightly caught his cheek and reached up - pressing his mouth against Peter's.

There was a brief moment of soft contact and stunned silence, then Peter pulled away, the blush now fluorescent pink and sparking around the edges. Slightly held his breath, but Peter only shook his head like a dog, wiped his mouth, and then the blush was gone.

"Like that?"

"I think like that, yes."

Slightly stared at Peter, Peter looked at the ground.

Through the trees, Wendy's voice came suddenly - calling the boys home to be counted off. Slightly blinked, and Peter flinched. Then Slightly set off at a run, feeling his mouth tingle and knowing that what he'd forgotten to pack for London had chosen to stay behind.

Wendy stood at the door, hands on hips. "Have you seen Peter?"

"Uh. No."


End file.
